"...and that's why I can't bear even looking at snakes," Lissa concluded, shivering as she spoke the last word.
"It's perfectly reasonable to be afraid of snakes," Robin said. "A lot in the desert bear red and yellow markings, designed as warning signs to scare off predators. Eagles and owls and other birds of prey begin to recognize the patterns as indicators that those particular species are poisonous, and so they learn to avoid them."
"Huh, I didn't know that." The princess pushed herself up against the side of the wagon, stretching out her legs. "We don't see a lot of them in Ylisse."
"They're fairly common in Plegia, as you could've guessed." Robin had begun to recover parts of his memory, but all that came from facts he had probably learned from texts and manuals. Nothing in his personal life came back to enlighten him, except for a few mundane inclinations. "Humans fear snakes too because we know they're venomous, so we try to avoid them in case they lash out at us. The Plegians, who revere the serpent as a sign of Grima, are an exception. It might be a bit silly, but it's another reason why I don't think I'm a native Plegian - I dislike snakes as much as the next guy."
"It's not silly at all! The more you talk about yourself, the more you sound like the average person. Really different than the Plegians we've come to know."
"I would still advise you to refrain from speaking to this man any further," came Frederick's reproaching voice from the front of the wagon. The knight had chosen to guide the horses himself, setting his own mount next to the wagon to freely trot alongside it. With Chrom in the passenger's seat next to him, that left Robin and Lissa to sit in the wagon itself alongside several bags of supplies that the trio had brought from the outlands. While Frederick had protested that leaving him alone with the princess might result in him potentially harming her, Chrom was satisfied with taking away the Thunder tome, his only discernible weapon. Robin happily agreed to the terms - he had seen Frederick prepare a length of rope before they set out on the northroad and he would rather not travel to the capital with his hands tied.
"I don't know what your problem is, Frederick!" Lissa protested. "All he's doing is talking to me."
"Best we save the exchanging of words to the interrogation later," the brown-haired knight advised, "lest he corrupt your mind with innocent-sounding stories meant to capture your sympathy."
"You've been reading too many of Sumia's crime thriller novels." Lissa made a face that Frederick could not see and turned to face Robin. "Even if you are a Plegian spy, my fear of snakes would hardly be classified as a royal secret. So we're okay."
"All the same, you're taking this rather casually."
The blonde looked away for a second. "I just like talking to people. I've already gotten to know my brother and Frederick way more than I'd like to, so you were the only option left. Think of it as my own way of interrogation!"
Robin resisted the urge to roll his eyes.
"Moving on! Do you have any animals you do like?"
His lack of memory certainly didn't help him find an answer, but he did remember getting into the wagon and admiring the royal company's choice in steeds: upon asking Frederick, the stoic knight hesitantly informed him that they were Clydesdales, dark brown hides with occasional splotches of white and short moppish tails. The horses stood tall and stately, majestic to behold and eagerly responding to the knight's touch when they prepared to set out.
"...I suppose I admire horses," Robin said. "I don't know if I've ever ridden one. Probably not. But if I had the opportunity to get a mount I would probably pick a horse. They are quite… loyal."
The princess' features brightened. "Oh, yeah! I love horses! Ever since I was a little girl, I've always dreamed of riding out over the hills and vales on one. Chrom's not a big fan of them, but I have a friend, the daughter of one of the dukes, that comes to the capital a lot and teaches me horseback riding. Though I don't have one of my own yet…" She leaned closer to Robin, beckoning him to turn his ear. "Frederick thinks I'm too delicate."
The amnesiac chuckled. "He does seem like the overbearing type, but it's not like he's your caretaker or something. Did you never ask your parents to teach you horseback riding?"
Lissa's pained expression made it clear that he had touched upon a sensitive matter. "I… I can't remember anything about my parents. My mother died shortly after I was born. And my father… I don't know if you remember the war, but…"
"Oh. Right." Fifteen years ago, the last exalt of Ylisse had descended upon Plegia in a bloody war born out of madness and an unchecked hatred for the worshippers of Grima, the Grimleal. The two nations had never had good relations, but the arrival of blue and white soldiers from the halidom across Plegian borders had put the two nations in a state of enmity from which they had not completely recovered, even with the new exalt's peaceful ideologies. "I should have known…"
"It's alright, my problems with my memories are nothing compared to yours," Lissa said. "It does make us similar, doesn't it? Neither of us know anything about our parents."
Something told Robin that wasn't necessarily the case.
"Hey, look!" the princess exclaimed, nudging Robin to sit up and look towards the front of the wagon. "You can see the castle from here. We're almost home!"
"We just go down this hill and we'll be in Ylisstol," Chrom informed them from the head.
Robin moved a bag of steel cylinders out of the way to get a better view. The wagon had reached the top of a hill, thick layers of forest shrouded in shadow bordering the verdant green and waves of amber stretching out below them. A meandering footpath cut through the high grass and wheat fields to a tall fortified white wall in the distance, over which he could see the spires and roofs of the buildings in the capital, alabaster dimly shining in the moonlight. The lateness of the hour made it difficult to pick out the finer details in the Ylisstol skyline, but he could sense the grandeur of the capital emanating even from such a distance.
"We going to make it before midnight?" He didn't like the prospect of sleeping on the country roads, no matter how many weapons their group had.
"We should hurry if that's our intent," the prince answered, and Robin heard Frederick snap the reins, urging their horses on.
The snapping of a wooden projectile at the hull of the wagon tent immediately caught everyone's attention. Another struck the front, between the coach's seat and the horses, causing the latter to whinny in fright and break into a gallop. The momentum pulled the four travelers along with them, causing the wagon to pick up speed. Archers, Robin guessed as he pulled himself up to get a feel for their rapidly changing surroundings.
"Bandits!" Chrom yelled over the braying of the animals and the shaking of their possessions while a third arrow broke through the beam connecting the wagon to the horses, freeing them from the harnesses and setting the vehicle on a wild course down the precarious slope. Robin quickly understood that the scenario had put him out of his element, and he could only look dumbly at Chrom and Frederick wondering if they had a plan.
"Can we slow this wagon down, Frederick?" the prince asked his retainer. Robin couldn't hear the knight's reply, but he did see Frederick gesture off to the side before leaping off the wagon, landing on a white blur that Robin recognized as his normal mount and tightly wrapping his legs around the horse's torso to keep his balance. He extended a hand to Chrom, who considered for a second before taking the jump as well, landing behind Frederick and gripping onto the knight's armor for dear life. Once he had stabilized, Chrom removed his scabbard, tossing it off onto the road and bringing out the legendary blade of House Ylisse.
Falchion.
He had no time to fully appreciate the sword's glow under the night sky as the wagon ran over a small rock on the path, bumping them around. He exchanged a look of terror and confusion with Lissa. "What should we do?" the princess asked him, clutching at her healing staff.
He groaned. The day only got harder and harder for him, but now it fell upon him to decide what to do, else they would meet their ends when the wagon inevitably crashed into the fields below, if the arrows from the bandits didn't give it to them beforehand. Robin climbed into the now vacant coach's seat, gesturing for Lissa to follow him. They wouldn't accomplish anything sitting in the back; jumping out that way basically meant giving themselves up to their pursuers. Robin proceeded to turn over the rest of the sacks in the front, hoping to find where Frederick had hidden his weapon, but could not find the tome. He hoped the knight happened to take it with him when they made their escape.
The sound of horses galloping came from either side of the wagon. Robin initially thought reinforcements had come from the castle to aid them, but a dangerously close jab of a lance near the front right wheel of the wagon told him otherwise. He grabbed the disjointed tip of a javelin near him and threw it in the direction of the lance, hoping to at least slow the upcoming rider down, if not outright trip his horse. They probably had another rider coming up on the other side, but Robin couldn't see them yet.
"You wouldn't happen to know how to use actual weapons, would you?" he gambled, pulling an axehead out of one of the bags, making sure he didn't slice his finger open on the blade.
"Me? Nuh-uh." Lissa shook her head. "Even if I wanted to, my brother and Frederick wouldn't let me near them."
Robin figured as much. Simply taking Lissa and jumping off the wagon wouldn't work, as even if he transitioned into a roll to ease the impact, it would still knock the wind out of them. Any bandits waiting along the road would find themselves a very inviting three-course meal in the form of their bruised bodies. The sound of iron striking iron tore him away from his thoughts, and he looked out the wagon to see Chrom and Frederick riding out to attack the archers that had plagued them, the prince swinging outwards with Falchion while keeping one arm on his retainer to balance him. Frederick wielded a sparkling silver lance, thrusting it into the shoulder of an axe-bearing bandit who couldn't lift up his weapon before the whirling blue tempest brought death upon him.
"You need a weapon, Robin!" Lissa said urgently, rummaging through the bags he had tossed aside. But the mage had his eyes glued to the battle roaring around him, catching a fleeting glance of a red blur speeding through the grass in the distance, lance held high as the rider jabbed at a couple of bandits. Both Frederick and this other cavalier had a disadvantage against the axe-wielding brigands, but they might as well have held swords the way they both handled themselves. He heard a frustrated scream on the other side of the wagon hull and then an anguished gurgle as the dull thump of an arrow embedded itself into the enemy cavalier's neck; it seemed reinforcements had come from the castle.
But that still didn't address the growing problem in front of Robin, namely the obstacle of getting Lissa and himself out of the wagon safely before it collided with the rock formation about three hundred yards in front of him. The mounted bandit on his left had caught up to them at this point, the dark-skinned man also wielding a lance. They certainly seemed dedicated to tracking down the runaway wagon. He wondered if Chrom had brought in any valuable goods from the country that the bandits wanted. Robin supposed that Lissa would count as one.
The cavalier had come close now, to where Robin could make out individual hairs in his mount's mane despite the darkness, and a plan formed in his mind, half out of sheer associative coincidence and half from desperation. "Lissa, you said you can ride horses, right?"
The princess looked completely confused. "Yeah, but I don't see how-"
"Then make sure you're ready to follow me and jump on that one!" he pointed, reaching for the nearest weapon from the containers around him - a short steel sword, that would do - and getting up, carefully maintaining his balance on the seat as the wagon drew nearer to the rider. The brigand jabbed at his legs, hoping to yank him off his precarious perch, but Robin took that moment to spring forward, throwing himself high at the bewildered rider and leaping at the horse. The bandit instinctively pulled back in surprise, but Robin had accounted for that and had deliberately angled his jump to overshoot the man's original position. Predictable.
He didn't bother swinging the sword in mid-air, as it would probably have done more bad than good; instead, he collided hard with the enemy rider and the two fell to the ground, the momentum from the cart carrying over and causing them to roll over one another several times, dust kicking up from their landing on the road, and leaving Robin reeling once they had begun to slow down. His sword had fallen from his grip during their descent, a moment of panic setting in Robin's head. Fortunately he had the bandit's body to cushion his fall upon initial impact, so he figured his opponent would have it worse. By some remarkable feat of will the man still had the strength to swing his lance at Robin, but the longer weapon had the disadvantage in close quarters. He dodged the clumsy swing, rolling over and sitting up, looking for his dropped blade which lay in the grass a short distance away. Robin quickly scampered over to reclaim it.
The brigand had begun to get up, something Robin couldn't allow. If it ever came to proper single combat between them, the lance's longer length would render him unable to get close enough to get a strike in, so he only had a small window in time to make his move. Charging almost recklessly, Robin swung at the man, a vertical strike of desperation that the bandit barely parried. He still had the advantage if Robin tried to keep swinging at him, as the lance's superior size gave the man a larger window of defense. So Robin had to resort to playing dirty.
The bandit certainly hadn't expected the kick to the groin, but if Robin was being honest with himself, he didn't either. Still, he had no time to dwell on the permanent lack of honor he would have to live with as he slashed at the man's unarmored chest, kicking the lance away now that the man only had one hand to hold it, and unceremoniously put him to an end in a flurry of bloody stabbings. Robin only looked long enough to ensure the man died. Any further observance and he would probably vomit the already disgusting beer he had stomached earlier.
Incidentally, idly standing in hollow victory over a dead body took away the remainder of Robin's energy along with the adrenaline that flooded out of him like water breaking through a dam. He collapsed alongside the brigand's cadaver, with only the faint shouting of a certain princess indicating that he had done his job.
A couple of ivory keys broke the silence. Robin recognized the tone as pianissimo. He wondered where he remembered such a term, the conscious train of thought slowly but surely dragging Robin from his slumbering state. The rough feeling of his rear end uncomfortably jostled by the trotting of a horse provided a much ruder awakening. He felt a hard body directly in front of him, registering that he needed to lean on it for support, and when he tried to give himself some personal space he found his own body tied with a series of ropes to the other body, hands strapped to his sides and legs to the horse's side.
"What… huh? Gah!" The last exclamation came from another bump that hit Robin's leg hard. A very eloquent beginning to his newest revival from unconsciousness, he realized.
"It looks like the vagabond is awake." The body in front of him spoke with a heavy accent, definitely not something he recognized from any of the countries on Ylisse. Valm, perhaps? He hoped he had not passed out long enough to get that far.
"'Bout time," a coarse feminine voice answered.
"Hey, what gives? What's with all the ropes?" Robin had never felt so conflicted on wondering whether he wanted some wiggle room or not.
"My situation is no more comfortable than yours, my good sir," the rider of his horse said. "You would not budge from the ground, but my lord Chrom refused to let you go, and since we are suffering from a shortage of horses, we have no choice but to double up."
"That doesn't explain anything," Robin complained. "What's going on?"
"You're alright." He recognized Chrom's voice. At least had something to remember. "We're almost at the castle now. Took us a while with that unnecessary delay, but it looks like we're all in one piece. How you're feeling?"
"I almost wish the bandits had killed me."
"There's no time for self-pity." Oh, great, his favorite person. He didn't understand how Frederick and Chrom could've fought so comfortably on a horse: just riding with someone else was painful enough, but Robin figured neither of them had to deal with any rope.
"Yeah, besides, you saved me! It was a bit scary having to jump onto that horse, but if you could do it with the rider still on, then I had no right to be a coward!" Lissa had given him a compliment somewhere in there, Robin was sure.
"You did well, Robin." Chrom's voice did little to placate him, but he'd rather hear it over Frederick, Robin supposed. "Now look alive! We're finally at the gate."
Robin couldn't see anything, his sight severely blocked by the man in front of him, not that he bothered to try. He turned his face sideways, seeing Lissa to his left holding onto the crimson armor of a muscular knight with short hair that matched the armor. For a knight, they looked rather… Oh. Robin thanked whatever god he prayed to that he had caught his error before he spoke to them. He had a feeling that the woman would show him no mercy if he made the mistake of placing the wrong gender label on her.
"My lord Chrom!" a feminine voice greeted them as the doors to the castle separated with a groan. "What happened? You look hurt! We thought you were to ride back via wagon. Did something go wrong? Did highwaymen strike you? Bandits?"
"At ease, Cordelia," the prince assured their welcomer. "We just ran into a little trouble at the top of Lowell's hill. Had to give up the supply wagon, but we all got out alive, us and Frederick's horse, at least."
"I… see. And who are these men?" Robin knew she meant him, but she didn't appear to recognize the man in front of him either.
"Lords and ladies, your humble servant begs the honor of introducing yourself. I am of the noblest hunter's blood, the archest of archers, man of many myst-"
"His name's Virion, no idea how he got here. But he's alright in a fight, shoots arrows, the whole nine yards," the red-haired knight cut him off. Robin held back a groan. Of course he had the terrible luck of literally being saddled with the bumbling oaf.
"Do you know him, Sully?" Chrom asked.
"Not a clue," the female cavalier answered. "Ruffles over here insisted that he follow me when I rode out to welcome you, so I only brought him along so he would shut up."
"The guy tied to his back is Robin!" Lissa provided, dismounting off Sully's horse. "We found him in a tavern in Southtown." I'll never have a good first impression with anyone, will I? "He doesn't remember who he is, what do they call those guys? Oh yeah, amnesiacs!"
"He only claims that," Frederick interrupted. "Look at his vestments, you can clearly see the Plegian emblem on them. Prince Chrom decided to take him back here for questioning."
"I'm inclined to believe he is actually what he says he is," Chrom offered. "He's shown good intentions so far, and I don't think one of Gangrel's hit men would help Lissa in the way he did…"
"Do I get a say in this?" While he appreciated Chrom putting in a good word for him, they all spoke of him like he didn't exist. And while he still couldn't separate himself from Virion's back, he still wanted the right to introduce himself. "My situation's a bit more complicated than that."
"You should hold your tongue," Cordelia chided him. "The Knight Lieutenant is right, we cannot prove that this man is not an informant for Plegia, especially after rudely interrupting the prince like that. A Ylissean man would surely show respect for his royalty."
He hated her already. And the sucking up to Chrom that she slathered on like marmalade on toast, Robin found utterly disgusting.
"It's alright, Cordelia. Well, Robin, now that you're awake, we can probably untie you, huh? I don't think Virion will want to drag you to your room as well," the prince said. Robin heard the sound of steps landing on stone and the movement of hands doing away at his bindings, starting from the legs up.
"H-his room?" Frederick interjected. "Aren't we locking him up in the cells for questioning?"
"I'm tired, he's tired, you're tired too, Frederick, even though you'll never admit it," Chrom answered wearily. "We save that for another day. And I think he's earned it, at least for tonight. He did manage to get Lissa out safely, something that we overlooked." Chrom had finished removing the ropes, although Robin still struggled to move thanks to his previous injuries and the soreness that he had gathered staying in one position for so long riding bareback on a horse, so when he tried to descend he had to lean heavily on Chrom. In the corner of his eye he saw an armored woman with long red hair and a lance scrutinize him with glaring daggers for eyes; she seemed rather annoyed at the thought of anyone presuming to come so close to the object of her obvious infatuation.
"Can you walk?" Chrom asked.
Robin grunted as he pushed himself off the prince, nodding as he steadied himself. "I'll be fine."
"Alright. Frederick will show you to your room." He turned to address the rest of the group. "We've all had a long day, I think it's long past time to turn in. Make sure you get some sleep, we'll be up early tomorrow to deal with our… new residents. That goes for you too, Cordelia. It's admirable that you keep volunteering for the night shift, but I understand from Phila that the pegasus knights rise at the break of dawn just like us. I can easily assign a regular guardsman to this slot."
The redhead's cheeks turned a faint shade of red. "I-it's no trouble, my prince. Honestly! I'm an early riser anyways, it doesn't bother me."
She didn't convince Robin at all, but Chrom seemed to take her explanation at face value. "Very well, then. If we don't have anything else to take care of, then I'm hitting the hay." He began to walk down one of the corridors in the hall, Lissa quickly tagging behind him.
"Do not trouble yourselves with my living arrangements," Virion announced to no one in particular. "I have long ago reserved a room at a nearby inn, but fear not, I shall come to see you all just as early on the morrow." He winked at Sully, who fortunately did not look in his direction quickly enough to spot the obscene gesture.
"Follow me, Robin," Frederick ordered. "The… guest quarters are this way. Good night, Lady Cordelia."
"Of course. Pleasant dreams, Sir Frederick." The shrew regarded Robin with one last look of cold hostility before heading for a staircase near the gate that led to the ramparts. He decided to block her out of his mind, already having enough worrying thoughts to deal with in one day. Perhaps a good night's rest would make things clearer in the morning.
It turned out he had fallen into one of those fatigued states that found even sleep too weary, and when he opened his eyes and looked out the window of the generously sized room that Frederick had shown him, he marveled that the sun had not risen yet.
Robin didn't feel sleepy at all - on the contrary, he felt quite awake, and deciding that he might as well fully awaken all his limbs, he dragged himself out of bed and towards the window, pushing the glass panes open and welcoming in the crisp autumn air. A bit too cold for his liking, but it did succeed in starting up the gears in his mind. He took in the beauty of the Ylissean inner courtyard, faint dewdrops glistening on the grass, and stared for a moment listening to the early morning concert of sparrows accompanied by the sound of gentle harpstrings.
Usually instruments played to him from the realm of illusions, but since Robin had already thoroughly shaken himself awake, he knew it had to come from somewhere. The sounds that greeted him in his imagination had bothered him enough. If he could discern the source, it would do a wonder on his sanity. Not bothering to change into the robes lying on the armchair that the maids must have brought in, Robin looked for his boots, muddied and worn from the previous day's travel, and headed into the corridor in his attempts to locate the harp.
The passageway outside his room ran down the perimeter of the courtyard, pillars supporting the archway every few feet. At the end of its length Robin found a square area, one corner of the courtyard with another passageway perpendicular to him on the right and a couple of narrow openings indicated by arches that went inside the palace. He found it empty except for a few stone benches and the instrument in question, leaning against one of the benches. And he couldn't believe who he found as its performer, sitting alongside it in a state of blissful tranquility.
Cordelia had her eyes closed and half turned away from Robin, who hid himself behind a pillar as he warily stuck his head out again, sure that his eyes had lied to him. But no, there the redhead sat, plucking an arpeggio, the notes taking off from her harp and soaring skyward, ascending in a spiral of profound elegance. He nearly fainted on the spot in his horror.
The melody stopped, and Robin froze, unsure if she had spotted him. Her continued silence indicated that she hadn't, and the amnesiac had decided to slip away quietly before she noticed. He would have to return to his room before Chrom - or worse, Frederick - found him missing, and putting the whole castle on alert for an unclean brown-haired man in Plegian robes was not Robin's idea of an ideal morning. So away he slinked off, until his careless footing betrayed him and the stumbling of his feet over the lengthy robes alerted the pegasus knight to his presence.
Robin immediately stopped thinking about the terror of Frederick finding him out here. Cordelia finding him was infinitely worse. The heel of her boot pressed against his neck confirmed his suspicions.
"Mind explaining to me your business out here, Plegian?"
A/N: I'm really off the story now. Cordelia's introduced a lot earlier than typical Awakening story, but we are aiming for different. Or rather, 'Fire Emblem: Robin's - Luck Preference Really Backfires On Him'
I also might need a beta reader to make sure that my veering away from the storyline still makes sense (among other things)